


Endless

by YoungestThunderbird



Series: The Old Ones [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Family, Friendship, Gen, Mysticism, Possibly Cannon, Possibly not, The Desert, Worldbuilding, character introspection, inspired by the works of fialleril, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungestThunderbird/pseuds/YoungestThunderbird
Summary: The Desert cares for her children, the only way she can.





	Endless

**Author's Note:**

> This is a test run of some of my fanfic from Fanfiction.net (I'm on the same username over there if anyone's terribly interested). This is probably one of my favorite pieces, objectively, and one of the most popular.

The desert is. It is vast, and ancient, and cruel. It is elemental in a way that few other environments are. It  
makes men of boys and corpses of men. It has not changed since it was created and will not change until it is  
destroyed. It is a place of deaths and life and servitude and freedom, and has more stories than anyone can tell.  
...  
Anakin saw her in the market every day, the woman at he well. She wasn't old, but it had been a long time since  
she was young, even he could tell. She reminded him of his mom, and she talked to the children who came to get  
their water ration.  
She said her name was Mara. She asked him his, and when he replied, she looked a bit sad.  
"Your name means Without Family. May you never be truly named." She said, a bit like a benediction. Anakin  
assured her that he had his mom, that that she was wonderful.  
In response, she told him a fierce story about a slave fighting against his masters for his family. Anakin had never  
heard it before. The story ended with the slave dying, and he cried out against it, but Mara merely shook her  
head.  
"Heroes die, child. That is what they do. Those who love heroes, even if they are other heroes, must brace  
themselves for it. Remember this, child. It shall serve you well."  
She told him many stories, stories about cleverness and wisdom, about brothers and sons and wives. About the  
desert and death.  
The last story she told him was about a very poor man who was clever but selfish and kept food from his family  
so he could have more. Anakin asked her why he was so selfish, but the only answer she gave was a small sad  
smile.  
"Why indeed." That was the day he met Qui-gon, and he never did go back to the well.  
He remembered her stories, much later, long after his wife betrayed him and his brother left him to burn. He  
wondered why there were no stories about the dark and the power it gave.  
Then he realized that there was, and that they were the stories of the slaves...  
...  
Luke was too small to remember when the wandering storyteller first showed up at his uncle's house. She called  
herself Ikaah, and she was the one to teach him his letters while his aunt and uncle worked. Her eyes were old,  
much older than her appearance. She came and went, but stayed at the farm about every couple of months. The book he learned to read from was old and worn, but still serviceable. It told stories of the history of a nation long extinct. She also taught him small games. Her favorite was one made from holes in the ground and stones. His was a  
game of chance where stones were tossed in a bowl. He won that the most.  
Her stories were simple ones, of family and home. At least, they were at first. They came to be about fighting and  
betrayal and fathers harming sons, as soon as he was old enough for such things. She told them of monsters and  
men, and those who were both. However, she also told him about love and hope and determination, and those  
who drove back the dark.  
"Your name is Luke, which means light. You shine as brightly as you possibly can, little one. The dark cannot  
swallow you." She told him a story of the sun pushing back the dark, and smiled a mysterious smile.  
As he grew even older, he asked for stories of other worlds and of rebellions. She told him of tropics and forests  
and oceans, and regaled him with tales of last stands and brave charges.  
The last story she told him was of a father and his child. The father desired victory in battle, and promised his  
God that he would sacrifice whatever came to meet him at the door when he arrived home. However, his child  
came to greet him. The father, bound by his oath, sacrificed his child. Luke was disturbed and expressed his  
horror.  
"It is indeed a terrible story, child. But there are terrible things in the hearts of men, and men do terrible things to  
please their masters. Take care that it is not you who is sacrificed."  
The next week, Uncle Owen bought a pair of droids. Then the farm burned, and Luke set off to Alderaan. He never  
saw the storyteller again.  
He remembered her story, when he faced his father. He was determined not to let himself be a sacrifice to the  
Emperor. He would push back the dark.  
...  
Rey met Atef when she walked into the outpost for the first time. The story woman sat beneath a tent some  
distance from the junk stand, and kept the children out of trouble. She had sun-browned skin from the sun, and  
her eyes held age and wisdom. She talked to Rey, even shared some of her rations for the first week.  
"I am fine. I stopped growing long ago." She said. Rey felt bad about taking her food, and tried to split it.  
"Young one, you need to eat." She told of a tribe from a remote planet that didn't get enough to eat that ended  
shorter than a jawa. Rey ate after that.  
"Your name is King, child. Wear it well. Be regal, but not afraid to stoop; be just, but not cruel. You will have a  
significant hand in the change to come." Not everyone listened to Atef, for she sometimes spoke words of  
madness; but Rey did, and learned.  
Even after she joined the others scavenging for parts in the old Star Destroyer, she still stopped by Atef's tent.  
Atef told her of ancient civilizations and ruins, and of the heroes she loved so much from the Rebellion.  
The last story she told her was about a brother who ran away from his home, but came back, and how his father  
welcomed him.  
Rey tilted her head and asked who she needed to welcome back.  
Atef just smiled. Rey listened better than many before her.  
The next day, Rey didn't have time to stop by Atef's tent. She never saw her again.  
She wondered how she could welcome Kylo Ren back when he killed her hero, though.  
...  
The desert is. It is vast, and ancient, and cruel, but it can be kind. It stretches from Sinai to Tattooine, and from  
the Sororan to Jakku. It remembers far better than any man, and is wise. Her children are innumerable, but she  
talks to them all in different ways.  
...

**Author's Note:**

> Mara is Hebrew for "bitter."  
> Ikaah is Navajo for "sand painting."  
> And Atef is Ancient Egyptian for "crown."  
> Desert languages all three, and all have an intriguing sound.  
> For the stories:  
> The first story is a modified version of Spartacus's rebellion. Or, really, it could be about any rebellion; I tried to make the stories ambiguous enough that many could fit.  
> The second is a story of Anansi the Spider, a trickster from Africa.  
> The third is from the Bible, Judges 11-12.  
> The fourth is a slightly exaggerated account of the Pygmies in Africa.  
> And the last, or course, is the Prodigal Son.


End file.
